I was
flying high in the sky; green fields
spread far below. Perhaps a dozen
other people were flying nearby. We were supposed to be in formation; I however
was having difficulty. I was flying too fast and zoomed past the others. I
banked to the left, turned in a circle, and cruised back into the end of the
formation.

At first I had been unsure what I was flying and
had surmised that I might be in a helicopter. Now however, I could see the
others more clearly – we were all flying on
horses! One rider
(probably in his early 20s) galloped past me
on a dark horse. Shirtless, he had brown skin and black hair, clearly Hispanic. He obviously knew
what he was doing – he knew how to make his flying horse gallop. I could only hold on
and allow my horse to travel at its own pace; I had almost no control.
Nevertheless, I was now riding smoothly and was managing to keep up with the
others. I was not afraid; but I was not able to relish the experience either – I was simply concentrated on staying afloat.